


30 minutes later

by mltrefry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Good Omens Lockdown, It's just them, M/M, One Shot, could be read as shippy but it's really not overly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mltrefry/pseuds/mltrefry
Summary: Sometimes, just before a demon falls asleep for a few months, he realizes he needs to pay more attention.Based on the Good Omens Lock Down short.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87
Collections: Good Omens Lockdown fics





	30 minutes later

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 30th, Good Omens. Like so many, I heard the Lock Down bit this morning, and as soon as it was finished, this popped in my head and it had to be written. It's pretty much just "more cake" as it were, seeing as how everyone has one of these by now, but here we are.

It took Crowley about thirty minutes to realize that “breaking all the rules” was exactly what he should be doing as a demon. Which, he had to give himself credit, wasn’t all that bad of a time frame. Yes, he’d just settled in and was ready to sleep until July, maybe August if he hit the snooze, but isn’t that when some of the thoughts and ideas one should have had earlier always come creeping back in?

He grumbled, because if he hadn’t been so bored, so ready for a nap just for something to do, he would have picked up on the cues earlier.

_Oughtn’t you be out and about? Doing things?_

_I’m not miserable._

_I’m afraid that would be breaking all the rules, out of the question!_

Okay, so “out of the question” when coming from Aziraphale tended to mean he wouldn’t approve. And maybe he would give Crowley a good dressing down, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy a case of good wine to go with his many, many baked goods.

So, Crowley snapped his fingers and summoned a case, left his flat, and headed the not very long distance to the bookshop.

The door was locked, but as Crowley would have never expected it to be, the knob turned for him easily. The bell chimed as it always did, and then there was a familiar huff coming from the back. 

“Gentlemen, while I’m sure my pastries were delectable-”

“It’s me, angel.” Crowley said as he came around to meet Aziraphale. 

He’d have looked nearly scandalized had it not been for that glimmer of joy in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?’

Crowley shrugged, “breaking the rules, s’what demons do.” He said, playing it casual. “Besides, you love being alone. Someone else around, snoring when you want quiet, rattling on when you’re trying to read. Bound to make you miserable eventually, right?” 

Aziraphale tried so hard to give Crowley a reprimanding glare, but he just didn’t hit right.

“Suppose,” he began, “that I can’t fault you for doing some demonic work, you fiend.” And then, “And, it would be nice of me to share what I’ve made, would it not?”

“With more than just the burglars?”

“Precisely.” Aziraphale said. “And besides, keeping you here means that I can ensure you do sleep for some of the time, prevent you from going so mad with boredom that you do, perhaps, cause more harm than good.” He inspected the case Crowley set down with none-too-little interest. “Get comfortable, my dear, and I’ll bring us a slice of cake to go with our wine.”


End file.
